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“BETSEY REGARDED HERSELF CRITICALLY IN THE 

MIRROR.” 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID 



EDITH ROBINSON 

AUTHOR OF “FORCED ACQUAINTANCES” 


Illustrated by Amy M. Sucker 




Copyright, rSgb 

By Joseph Knight Company 




dolomal ^ress: 

C. H. Simonds &. Co., Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 

Electrotyped by Geo. C. Scott & Sons 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

“ Betsey Regarded Herself Critically in the 

Mirror” . . . . . . Frontispiece 

“ She Paused for a Moment ” .... 3 

“The Old Dutch Clock in the Corner” . . 20 

“‘Your Part of the Game Is to Bring Him to 

THIS Room ’ ” 28 

“Her Fingers Bungled Sadly over the Cord” 33 

“ Betsey’s Horse Sped over the Oft-traversed 

River Road” 43 

“‘I AM Afraid Your Ankle Is Sprained’” . 46 

“The View from the Staircase” .... 49 

“A Charming P'igure Appeared in the Door- 
way ” 67 

“‘Hark, Do You Hear That?”’ .... 73 











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ill 




A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


I. 

Betsey jumped ashore at the Philipse land- 
ing and moored her canoe to the stump of the 
old sycamore. P'amiliar as the scene was to 
her, she paused for a moment to drink in its 
beauty. Opposite, the Palisades arose above 
the bright waters of the Hudson, their precipi- 
tous sides, clad with autumnal foliage, present- 
ing an unbroken wall of splendid color, of 
manifold gradations, in the haze of Indian 
summer. On this side of the river, nature 
gave place to painstaking cultivation. A strip 
of shingly beach, bordered by stately yew-trees, 
merged into a wide expanse of velvet lawn, 
dotted with rare shrubbery. On the surrimit 
of its gentle slopes stood Manor Hall, the 
residence of the Philipse family. Built in the 
Dutch style of architecture, with galleries and 
a flat balustraded roof, massive half doors 
brought from Holland, and wide, pillared 


2 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


porches with bull’s-eye lights, it was esteemed 
the finest mansion on the banks of the Hudson. 
A thrifty apple orchard lay between the house 
and the high road — or river road, as it was 
usually called — that followed the course of the 
Hudson from the town of New York, seven- 
teen miles distant, to the little Dutch settle- 
ment of Albany, near the head of navigation. 

The fortunes of the Philipse family had run 
in a high and unbroken tide since the days 
when their gracious Majesties, William and 
Mary, had been pleased to erect the Manor of 
Philipsburgh, which, according to the Royal 
Charter, was *‘to be holden of the King, in 
free and common soccage, its lords yielding, 
rendering and paying therefore, yearly and 
every year, on the feast-day of the Annuncia- 
tion of the Blessed Virgin Mary, at the fort in 
New York, the annual rent of ^£4 12s/' 

In the years that followed the Royal grant, 
by purchase and by marriage with heiresses, so 
many broad acres were added to the original 
demesne, that when that young heir— known 
amongst the Dutch as the Yonkheer* — who 

* For whom the present town of Yonkers (Yonk-heer’s) is 
named. 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


3 



built Manor Hall 
came to his ma- 
jority, the estate 
equaled in extent 
a prince’s realm. 
It was said, indeed, 
that increase of 
this domain had 
become a mania 
in the Phil ipse 
family ; certain it 
was that no gener- 
ation passed that 
a considerable 
part and parcel ” 
of land was not 
added to the Manor 
of Philipsburgh. 
Y et this appar- 
ently unbroken 
prosperity may 
have had its flaw. 
Upon the comple- 
tion of Manor Hall 
the Yonkheer 
gave a great ban- 


4 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


quet. In the midst of the merrymaking, an 
Indian appeared on the threshold and spoke 
words that, mysterious as the writing on the 
wall at Belshazzar’s feast, was said to lie with 
terrible foreboding on the secret heart of each 
and every descendant of the Yonkheer. 

The present Lord Philipse — or Colonel 
Philipse, as he was usually called — may have 
been, at heart, as loyal to his Majesty, King 
George III., as was his ancestor, the recipient 
of the bounty of their Majesties, William and 
Mary. But this was a time when prudent folk 
took heed to their words and ways ; for evil 
days had fallen upon the land. A murmuring 
faction had arisen against the so-called tyran- 
nical course of the Ministry and Parliament ; 
and, ere long, disaffection had made such prog- 
ress as to reach, from petition and remon- 
strance, to an armed attempt at throwing off 
the allegiance to the mother country. Al- 
though the popular English belief, as publicly 
expressed by my Lord, the Earl of Sandwich, 
was that ‘^all Yankees are cowards,” the course 
of events in what was still, in British parlance, 
the insurrection,” since the first shot was 
fired at Concord Bridge a year ago, had not 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


5 


borne unvarying testimony to this opinion. 
Loyal adherents to the crown there undoubt- 
edly were, who would have laid down life and 
fortune in the royal cause. But there were 
others who, whatever their party predilections, 
held their own interests paramount, and deemed 
it wise to await a little longer the progress of 
affairs before declaring themselves openly on 
either side. To this class belonged the present 
owner of the Manor of Philipsburgh. 

Frederick Philipse had no mind to have his 
fine house burnt over his head, his lands de- 
spoiled and himself haled to the gallows, seated 
on a coffin with a rope around his neck — even 
if the farce went no farther, — all of which 
catastrophes would belike befall him if he were 
convicted by the British of any overt act of 
rebel sympathy. While, on the other hand, the 
leader of the insurgents was known to hold the 
Tories — as those of Royalist sympathies were 
called by the opposing faction — in particular 
detestation, deeming them a constant menace 
to the American cause, and openly referring to 
them as ^‘abominable pests of society,” and 
“ execrable parricides.” In the remote event 
of the provincials gaining the ascendency, Mr. 


6 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


Washington, who was known to be a person of 
much decision of character, would unquestion- 
ably follow up this vigorous language with still 
more forcible action. So Frederick Philipse, 
being a man to whom temporizing was easy 
and natural, held himself in a nice balance be- 
tween the contending forces, ready, at any con- 
clusive happening, to drop gently into the camp 
of either party. 

It looked as though the decisive moment had 
at last arrived. The preceding July, the pro- 
vincials had burnt their ships behind them by a 
formal Declaration of Independence. Repeated 
disaster had since followed their military oper- 
ations ; after meeting with a signal defeat on 
Long Island, they had skulked off, under cover 
of the night, to New York, where they were 
speedily fallen upon by the British. After a 
brief encounter near the landing on East River, 
known as Kip’s Bay,* in which the Yankees 
exhibited all their expected cowardice, they 
were chased out of town, their pursuers blowing 
their bugles as on a fox-chase, as far as the hill 
on which lay Mr. Murray’s farm.f Here the 


*Near the foot of what is now 34th Street, 
t Now Murray Hill. 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


7 


good lady of the house had spread an elaborate 
repast for the British officers, which proved so 
appetizing that the pursuit was given over to 
its enjoyment. The scattered provincials took 
refuge among the hills to which the lower 
banks of the Hudson rise ; here the officers 
at last succeeded in rallying them, and at 
Harlem Heights an entrenched camp was 
thrown up, and the commander-in-chief estab- 
lished his headquarters. 

It chanced that Miss Philipse had been shut 
up in New York throughout the progress of 
these exciting events, having gone thither on a 
visit before the tide of combat reached the 
town. An elder sister had married Col. Bev- 
erly Robinson, a Virginian by birth, and a 
gentleman of wealth and consideration. Susan- 
nah Robinson had been dead several years, 
but Miss Philipse kept up the long established 
custom of frequent visits to the hospitable 
mansion in the Battery, out of affectionate 
regard for her sister’s children. Of late, these 
visits had been longer and more frequent. 
Colonel Robinson had openly given all the 
weight of his influence to the Royalist cause ; 
he was known to be in active communication 


8 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


with the Royalist governor, and other repre- 
sentatives of his Majesty, and his house was the 
recognized headquarters of the strong Tory 
element in New York. Miss Philipse, though 
cast in gentlest mould, was regarded as a jDer- 
son of much decision of character, and it was 
no secret that she found, in the Royalist circle 
at Colonel Robinson’s, a more congenial atmos- 
phere than that afforded by her brother’s non- 
committal policy at home. 

It was in eager anticipation of Miss Philipse’s 
return to Manor Hall that Betsey Schuyler had 
paddled up the river from her own home, some 
miles distant, where she had been living in the 
care of an old servant, since her father and 
brother had joined the Continental Army. 

Betsey had just passed her fourteenth birth- 
day, but, despite the disparity of years, the 
friendship between her and Miss Philipse was 
deep and true, holding, on the side of the latter, 
something of the maternal element that is part 
of every good woman’s love, and which, in 
this instance, was particularly called forth by 
the circumstances of the girl’s motherless life. 
Though she smiled at and even sometimes 
gently chid the worship of which she was the 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


9 


object, she could not but be touched by the 
unquestioning faith, and responsive to an affec- 
tion so deep and true and wholly unselfish as 
scarcely to need years to mature. “ Miss 
Philipse said so,” was, to Betsey, all sufficient 
ground for any belief. Miss Philipse could do 
no wrong!” was part of the girl’s very creed. 

The influence of beauty and of a rare mag- 
netic charm was felt by all in the presence of 
Mary Philipse ; but there was another reason for 
Betsey’s loving reverence, beside personal at- 
tractions, or even the tendency, not uncom- 
monly displayed by a young and impressionable 
girl, of seeing, in a woman older and stronger 
than herself, the very ideal of womanhood. 
Betsey had never read any fairy tales ; she knew 
nothing of novels ; poetry was an unknown realm 
to her. The only books at her home were the 
Bible and an old copy of Fox’s “ Book of 
Martyrs,” and she could scarcely spell her way 
through them, for, though her parents were 
gentlefolk, in those days a girl’s education was 
held of scant account. 

There was a story to which, on some long- 
forgotten day, she had hearkened, that was at 
once a fairy tale to the imagination of the child 


lO 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


she Still was in years, and a romance to the 
half-wistful, half-timid fancy of the girl whose 
dreams were beginning to take on the tinge of 
womanhood. 

Once upon a time, many years ago, there 
lived a princess whose grace and beauty were 
the theme of every tongue. Many suitors 
sought her hand, but in vain, till there jour- 
neyed to her realm the prince of a far-off 
country. He was rich and handsome, and of 
gentlest courtesy to high and low. Even brave 
men spoke, with bated breath, of a strength 
that was as the strength of ten, of a more than 
mortal valor. A great ball was given at the 
royal palace, and in the stately steps of the ^ 
first dance the prince and princess looked at 
each other with the love light in their eyes. 

But the mission on which the prince was 
bound brooked no tarrying, and on the morrow 
he took leave of the princess, saying that in 
seven days he would come again. But the 
promised time had long expired when he once 
more drew rein at the palace gates. It was to 
find the princess gone ! Whence, he did not 
seek to follow, nor did he stay to question or 
parley, but, putting spurs to his snow-white 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


I 


Steed, rode on to his home in the far South, and 
he and the princess never met again. 

The princess’s name was Mary Philipse. 
The prince’s was George Washington. 

It was not merely that Betsey would have 
shrunk from any impulse of curiosity regarding 
that episode of her friend’s youth, as from a 
sacrilege, — she did not want to know more 
concerning it. The knowledge of the fairy tale 
without the proper ending, — “ and they lived 
happy ever after ; ” of the sweet beginning of 
a romance that was never finished, added the 
last touch of grace and reverence to her love 
for her friend. To have let in the light of day 
upon the precious secret would have been to 
have the fairy tale made real, and so lose its 
reality ; to have met the hero and heroine of 
the romance at the dinner - table and found 
them middle-aged people, fat and bald and 
stupid. By some subtle chord of sympathy 
Miss Philipse understood all this, and the bond 
between the child and woman was the closer 
and finer because of it. 

It was the most momentous event of Betsey’s 
life when she met — nay, actually talked with, 
the fairy prince, the hero of romance ! It was 


12 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


Still through the glamor of the ideal that she 
beheld him, rather than in the harsher light of 
reality — although he was become the most 
important personage in the Colonies — the 
commander- in -chief of the Continental Army. 
Happily for Betsey, General Washington more 
than realized the fondest dreams of girlish 
imagination. General Schuyler’s house was 
not far from the provincial camp at Harlem 
Heights, and Philip Schuyler, who had recently 
been appointed to the command of General 
Washington’s body-guard — a mounted escort 
of twenty young gentlemen of family — snatched 
a few minutes from his duties to visit his home^ 
and the little sister from whom he had been 
separated a twelvemonth. Yielding to Betsey’s 
eager pleading, he took her to see the en- 
trenched camp. 

It was spread out over a peninsula half a 
mile in width, that lay between the Hudson 
River on the west and the Harlem River on 
the east. On three sides precipitous walls 
or pathless crags formed a natural defence ; the 
only approach was from the south, where a 
narrow highway wound up a steep declivity 
known as Breakneck Hill. This quarter was 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


13 


guarded by three parallel lines of fortifications, 
at the distance of about a quarter of a mile 
apart. A little beyond the third parallel was 
the big square house of Col. Roger Morris, 
now occupied by General Washington and his 
military family. On the brow of the hill, 
commanding a wide stretch of the river, stood 
Fort Washington. At the left of a path that 
zigzagged from the landing near the foot of 
Breakneck Hill to the highway was a little 
spring, that had been a favorite haunt of 
Betsey’s in more peaceful times. Its margin 
was now trampled and muddy, and the grass 
worn away for many feet around. It was here 
she stood and looked with absorbing interest 
upon the strange scene into which war had 
converted the familiar rocky meadows of the 
Jumel place. 

It was a motley settlement stretched out 
behind the fortifications, consisting of almost 
every imaginable kind of rude shelter that 
could be thrown up to serve as protection 
against the autumn winds that already swept 
keenly over the exposed plains. Some of the 
huts were constructed of boards or sail-cloth, or 
partly of both ; others were of stone or turf, or 


14 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


of birch or other brush. Most of them had 
evidently been put together in a careless hurry, 
but here and there was one whose construction 
evinced considerable skill, boasting doors and 
windows elaborately woven out of withes and 
reeds. A few men were lounging about the 
settlement, smoking or playing cards, but the 
greater number were at work upon the ditches 
or abatis. None of the soldiers wore what 
could properly be called a uniform, and no 
considerable number were dressed alike. Men 
with lean, sinewy figures and shrewd faces, 
bronzed to the color of mahogany, wore cheeky 
shirts and breeches of homespun. The plain 
tight-fitting blue coats of the New England 
farmers, with their hats decorated with a turkey- 
cock feather,* the parting gift of some Yankee 
sweetheart, mingled with the white frocks and 
round hats of the men from Maryland and 
Pennsylvania. But what especially attracted 
Betsey’s attention was a number of tall men — 
she had never before seen such an assemblage 
of men of extraordinary height — clad in ash- 
colored shirts, with double capes ornamented 

^Whence Yankee Doodle, — 

“ Stuck a feather in his hat.” 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 

with fringe, that reached to the middle of the 
thigh ; fringed leggins and gay moccasins com- 
pleted the picturesque attire. 

All at once she saw a tall man — taller than 
any of the Virginia riflemen — who was silently 
watching the men at work with the spades and 
pickaxes. No need to question who he was, 
there, could be no mistaking General Washing- 
ton, even by one who had never seen him be- 
fore. Nevertheless, Betsey tightened her clasp 
of her brother’s hand and whispered : 

Is it General Washington.?” 

“Yes, it is his Excellency,” answered Philip, 
in a low voice, saluting General Washington, 
who just then glanced in their direction. 

He approached with a firm, graceful step, 
force and dignity in each line of the stately fig- 
ure and handsome bronzed face, and Betsey 
had time to note every detail of his appearance. 
He wore a blue coat, with buff-colored facings, 
and two brilliant epaulettes ; buff-colored small- 
clothes and a three-cornered hat, with a black 
cockade, completed his attire. An elegant 
small sword was by his side, and boots and 
spurs showed him ready, at a moment’s warn- 
ing, to mount his charger. His hair, powdered 


1 6 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 

and turned back from his forehead, was tied 
with a black ribbon. He had a strong, but 
mobile mouth, the lips slightly compressed, 
and earnest, far-seeing eyes — to which sleep 
was evidently a stranger — in whose gray-blue 
depths was an expression of resignation, almost 
of sadness. 

He looked down upon the young girl with 
kindly scrutiny. 

“Whom have we here ” he asked, and, with 
the gentle courtesy of his tone, Betsey’s clasp 
of her brother’s hand relaxed. Reverence, even 
to awe, she would always feel in the presence 
of General Washington, but not fear. 

“ Betsey Schuyler, your Excellency,” she 
answered, and dropped a curtsy. 

“And a loyal little maid, I make no doubt. 
Your father and your brother would answer 
for that, even if those blue eyes did not tell 
their own tale,” he said, with a bow in which 
courtly grace blended with soldierly dignity. 
Then, with a smile whose memory lingered like 
a benediction, he walked on toward the outer 
line of fortifications, and the child’s eyes, 
blinded with unconscious tears, followed him 
till he was out of sight. 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


17 


Ardent little patriot as Betsey had heretofore 
been, it is not too much to say that, after that 
memorable meeting, she would gladly have died 
for her country or for General Washington, she 
could not have told which. Somehow, in her 
crude, childish understanding, the one seemed 
to stand for the other. 


11 . 


As Betsey now hastened across the lawn, 
toward Manor Hall, her eager eyes were fas- 
tened upon the centre window in the upper tier 
of small paned casements. There it was Miss 
Philipse’s habit to muse, gazing on the broad 
stretch of water and woodland. But no sweet, 
fair face and welcoming wave of the hand 
greeted Betsey to-day. 

She passed around the house, and entered 
by the front porch. Through the closed door 
of the drawing-room, on the left of the entrance, 
came the murmur of voices, and she paused 
with mingled hesitation at interrupting a con- 
versation and childish diffidence of strangers. 
The door on the opposite side of the hall was 
open, and, after a moment’s hesitation, she en- 
tered the dining-room, and seated herself in the 
deep embrasure of the window. Presently the 
drawing-room door opened, and the murmur 
resolved into the voices of two men. One was 
that of Colonel Philipse ; as Betsey recognized 

i8 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


19 


that of the other, she sprang from the window- 
seat into the middle of the room, and looked 
wildly about for some chance of escape. 

Col. Roger Morris, the owner of the great 
Jumel place, was a familiar figure in the neigh- 
borhood, and had been a frequent visitor at 
Betsey’s home, till the outbreak of the war 
enlisted his sympathies and those of General 
Schuyler on opposite sides of the struggle. For 
no reason of which she could give a rational 
account, he had inspired Betsey, from her very 
babyhood, with a vague, but awful terror, which 
his grotesque ugliness of form and feature was 
inadequate to explain. This instinctive antipa- 
thy had not lessened with years, so that even 
now, “grown up” though she was, she could 
not look upon Colonel Morris’s stout, square 
figure, with the bowed legs and bull neck, the 
fiery face and protuberant eyes, without being 
overwhelmed as with the terror of the nursery 
bugaboo. The present emergency had come 
upon her too suddenly for her to restrain the 
old wild impulse of flight. 

But which way to flee ? By the one door, 
she would fling herself into the very arms of 
Colonel Morris; by the other, that connected 


20 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


with the kitchen, she must run against the ser- 
vant, whose footsteps were already heard in the 
passage. It was over in an instant — the blind 
terror, the wild leap, the flash of thought, and 
a plunge toward the old Dutch clock in the 



corner. Its case was large enough to conceal 
a slender girl. Pushing aside the heavy leaden 
weights, Betsey whisked inside and drew the 
door after her — not a moment too soon. 

The conversation between the two gentlemen 
was upon indifferent topics, till the servant left 



A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


21 


the room. Then Colonel Morris, apparently 
resuming a discussion of absorbing interest, 
said, in lowered tones and with an involuntary 
glance about the apartment : 

‘‘You are sure that the passage is unob- 
structed ? If it has not been used since the 
days of the Yonkheer, there might be danger 
from foul air.” 

“I have examined it myself,” answered 
Colonel Philipse, in an evident sulky tone. 
“ It is in as good condition as when it was 
excavated.” 

“ I suppose the original idea of a subter- 
ranean passage was to provide a means of 
escape against an attack of the Indians ? ” sug- 
gested Colonel Morris. 

Philipse briefly assented. 

“ The wisdom of your ancestor was yours 
in providing against a like danger from — the 
rebels,” went on the other, in a significant tone. 
“ So prominent and uncompromising a Royalist 
as Colonel Philipse is necessarily exposed to 
the ill will of the insurgents.” 

“ I should not have told you of the passage 
if I had not been on your side,” returned 
Philipse, with a furtively resentful air. 


22 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


do not doubt your good-will,” rejoined 
Colonel Morris, although I must confess that 
I was somewhat under the impression that it 
was by a fortunate slip that I learnt of this 
passage, of whose existence you and your sister 
were the only living persons cognizant. We 
are showing our reliance upon your loyalty in 
the most conclusive manner by depending upon 
your cooperation in this scheme.” He spoke 
in the bluff tones that were generally regarded 
as the exponent of a rugged honesty and 
blunt good-will. But there were those who, 
having in some wise given offence to Roger 
Morris, had lived to hold a different opinion of 
what that open manner covered. Besides,” 
he went on, any doubts that you have naturally 
felt as to the expediency of showing your hand 
may well be set at rest by recent events. The 
rebels are disheartened by defeat. All their 
heavy artillery was left behind in the flight from 
New York ; they are without military stores for 
offensive operations, or camp supplies to lie 
long upon the defensive. Local jealousies dis- 
tract the rabble they call their army ; its two 
best regiments — the Marblehead fishermen 
and Morgan’s Virginia riflemen — are in con- 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


23 


stant broils. Now is the time to strike a 
decisive blow. The insurrection is stamped out 
once we have laid our hands upon its backbone, 
George Washington. Ha ! what was that ” 
Colonel Morris started, and threw a glance over 
his shoulder in the direction of the clock. 

I heard nothing — a mouse behind the 
wainscoting, perhaps.” 

“ He is as superbly handsome now as when 
a boy,” went on Morris, in a tone of strange 
discontent. “ One could see, as he sat his 
horse, that he was straight as an Indian.” He 
glanced, perhaps unthinkingly, at his own bowed 
legs. 

“ Where did you see him ? ” 

“ In the recent encounter. Washington, 
hearing the firing, galloped to Kip’s Bay. He 
was just in time to see two regiments of the 
provincials, without having fired a shot, flying 
before sixty or seventy of the British. He was 
beside himself at their cowardice ; never did I 
see a man in such a towering rage. Regardless 
of the bullets that were whistling around him, 
he stood alone within eighty yards of the 
enemy, threatening the fugitives with sword 
and pistol, till one of his officers seized the 


24 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


bridle of his horse and dragged him from the 
field. Egad, whatever else may be said of 
George Washington, he is no coward ! ” wound 
up Colonel Morris, with soldierly enthusiasm. 
Perhaps, if Roger Morris had been a handsome 
man, he would have been a better man. 

You are old friends, are you not ? ” queried 
Frederick Philipse. 

‘‘Old — friends,” assented the other, in his 
bluffest tones. “ We served together on Gen- 
eral Braddock’s staff, in the French and Indian 
campaign. His appearance at Kip’s Bay, de- 
spite the inevitable changes of years, recalled 
the last time I saw him, on that awful day of 
Braddock’s defeat. We had fallen into the am- 
bush on the Monongahela ; the regulars were 
flying in every direction ; men were being 
slaughtered like sheep. Washington, heedless 
that he was the target of all the best marksmen 
among those howling fiends, that his coat was 
riddled with bullets, and two horses had been 
shot from under him, refused to take to cover, 
lest his example unnerve his men, and towered 
through the smoke, the very incarnation of 
physical power. Seizing a field-piece as though 
it were a fagot, he brought it to bear on a body 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


25 


of French and Indians, and so, giving a momen- 
tary check to the attack, enabled us to beat a 
disorganized retreat. Not one of us would have 
been alive to tell the tale if it had not been for 
George Washington ! ” 

“ My recollections of him, though dating at 
about the same time, are of a widely different 
character,” observed Philipse. ‘‘ On his sub- 
sequent journey to Massachusetts to hold con- 
ference with Governor Shirley regarding the 
military precedence, he tarried over night in 
New York, and Beverly Robinson, who was 
an old friend and schoolmate, gave a ball in his^ 
honor. The following morning, the young Vir- 
ginian resumed his journey northward. As the 
gay little cavalcade clattered along the Battery, 
the company at Beverly’s flocked to the gallery, 
to call good speed and fling flowers to the 
departing guests. A rose — I know not from 
whose hand it fell — Washington deftly caught, 
and pressed to his lips. He rode a little in 
advance of the others, on a magnificent white 
charger, dressed in a uniform of blue and buff, 
with a scarlet and white cloak flung over his 
shoulder, and a sword knot of scarlet and gold 
at his side. As he passed out of sight, he 


26 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID, 


waved his hand to us — the hand still holding 
the rose ; and so I have ever borne him in mem- 
ory. A gallant figure, truly, that might well 
have been potent in love as in war ! ” 

“ Where is the outlet of the passage ? ” asked 
Colonel Morris, abruptly, apparently wearied of 
reminiscence. 

There are two outlets,” answered Philipse, 
with greater readiness of tone, perhaps con- 
vinced by his companion’s representations of 
the policy of the course to which he had acci- 
dentally committed himself. “The Yonkheer 
provided a means of escape by both water and 
land. The outlet at the river end is not far 
from the stump of an old sycamore-tree, a few 
feet up the bank, concealed by bushes. Mid- 
way of the main passage a branch strikes off 
to the left ; it had its exit originally between 
the roots of a large oak. When the ground 
was cleared for St. John’s Church, although 
no further danger menaced from the Indians, 
it was deemed expedient not to block up the 
passage. A flight of steps was accordingly 
built into the masonry of the church, leading 
to a sliding panel in the sacristry.” 

“ How is the passage reached from the 
house } ” 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


27 


“ From the clock yonder. The back of the 
case gives way on touching a spring — ap- 
parently a screw — in the upper left - hand 
corner.” 

“ Good ! Nothing could be better for our 
purpose. It was most opportune that . Mr. 
Washington should desire to pay his respects 
to the sister of his old friend, and truly amiable 
of Miss Philipse that she should consent to 
receive him this afternoon. I will arrange to 
have Conly and half a dozen men on hand. 
The river road is in the possession of the pro- 
vincials, but, by taking the inside road from 
New York, and striking- across the wooded 
meadows by the Sawmill River, Conly can 
reach the church, and so gain the passage 
without danger of discovery.” 

“Will six men be enough.?” demurred Phil- 
ipse. “They tell prodigious stories of Wash- 
ington’s strength.” 

“Call it ten, if you like,” rejoined Morris, 
impatiently. “Your part of the game is to 
bring him to this room. That is easily man- 
aged, as you will naturally wish to offer wine 
before his departure. Conly will be at the 
aperture yonder at sharp five of the clock. 


28 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


Let the signal for his appearance be his 
Majesty’s health. The trap cannot fail.” 

“You know the old Indian prophecy,” said 
Colonel Philipse, thoughtfully, “ ‘ He was not 
made to be killed by a bullet.’” 



“There are missives more unerring than a 
bullet, more silent than the knife,” responded 
Morris, sententiously. “ Mr. Washington will 
be placed in safe quarters in the Jersey^ in 
Wallabout Bay. Let us hope that his gal- 
lant figure and potent charm of manner will 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


29 


not suffer from confinement in the prison 
ship.” 

The conversation ceased as the servant en- 
tered to remove the soup. 

“You are expecting Miss Philipse’s return 
queried Colonel Morris, with a courteous display 
of interest. 

“She will be here soon,” answered Philipse, 
glancing mechanically at the clock. “ Why, it 
has stopped !” he exclaimed, and, rising, walked 
toward the timepiece. 


III. 


Following the other’s motion, Colonel Mor- 
ris turned and glanced over his shoulder ; in 
so doing he thrust out his foot, over which 
the servant stumbled and fell headlong. The 
dishes crashed upon the floor, and some of 
the soup was scattered over Colonel Morris’s 
breeches. In the mishap and its apologies, the 
attention of both host and guest was diverted 
from the errant timepiece. The dinner pro- 
gressed in silence, both gentlemen apparently 
absorbed in their own thoughts. 

Stiff from standing so long in one position, 
the imminent peril of discovery had made Betsey 
almost insensible with fright ; but, as soon as 
the immediate danger was averted, physical 
and mental discomfort were forgotten in the 
face of the awful danger that menaced General 
Washington. 

She must save him ! 

But the very intensity of the thought para- 
lyzed further conception, and for a few moments 


30 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


31 


she stood inanimate as a mummy in its case. 
Then her brain slowly cleared, and calmly and 
collectedly she reviewed the situation in all its 
bearings. 

Until recently Betsey had been a child, her 
healthful, out-of-door life tending to check a 
precocious mental development. But the stirring 
events of the past year, the ever-present thought 
of the danger to which her father and brother 
were exposed, and the sense of responsibility 
that was developed, unconsciously, in the ab- 
sence of those under whose guidance her years 
would naturally have placed her, — all these 
influences tended to produce a rapid growth of 
character, so that, suddenly confronted by an 
awful responsibility, she was capable of a matu- 
rity of judgment and nicety of execution that 
were beyond her years. 

Her first and natural impulse was to inter- 
cept General Washington on the river road, 
which he would undoubtedly follow from Har- 
lem Heights. But the next breath showed her 
that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to 
emerge from her present hiding-place, leave the 
house and gain the river road, without detec- 
tion, and she must risk no encounter with 


32 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


Colonel Morris ; for, aside from her childish and 
unreasoning terror, she instinctively felt that 
those bulging eyes, fixed upon her guilty face, 
would at once read her cognizance of the deadly 
plot. The only feasible plan would be to follow 
the subterranean passage to the river and pad- 
dle with all speed to Harlem Heights. General 
Washington would not, in all probability, leave 
the camp before three o’clock ; as nearly as she 
could judge, it was now a little past noon. 
Expert at paddling as she was, she could cover 
the distance to the encampment in two hours. 
There would therefore be ample time, and even 
a considerable margin, in which to convey the 
warning ; and she drew a long breath of relief 
as she saw the way grow clear before her. 

The gentlemen left the room at last; very 
cautiously, Betsey felt for the spring ; the back 
of the clock slid noiselessly back, revealing, in 
the light that straggled in through the chinks 
of the case, a narrow staircase built into the 
solid walls of the house ; carefully closing the 
door, and with an awful thought of the mice 
that swarmed behind the wainscoting, she 
plunged into the darkness below. Even after 
her eyes had become accustomed to the dim 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


33 


light of the passage — there were apertures over- 
head, concealed by the shrubbery on the lawn — 
the inequalities of the pathway obliged her to 
grope her way. At last she reached the outlet, 
and, by the aid of the bushes, scrambled down 



the bank to the sycamore stump ; her fingers, 
clumsy with haste, and chilled from contact 
with the damp walls of the passage, bungled 
sadly over the cord that secured the canoe. 
Even after she was fairly afloat, further uncon- 
sidered delay tortured her. The tide, strongly 


34 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


felt for many miles above the mouth of the 
Hudson, had turned, and, although Betsey kept 
her Itght craft in the comparatively still water 
near the bank of the stream, it was impossible 
to make rapid headway. More than once she 
would have laid down the paddle in weariness 
and despair, had not the thought of the peril 
that she only could avert nerved her to fresh 
effort. But, in spite of her utmost endeavor, 
the accumulated delays consumed the time with 
frightful rapidity, so that when she reached 
Spuyten Duyvil, as the confluence of the Hud- 
son and Harlem Rivers was called, the clock in 
the neighboring hamlet of Kingsbridge struck 
three. And there were still two miles before 
her! 

At last the canoe shot toward the landing by 
the camp. 

“ Who goes there ? ” challenged the sentinel. 

I am Captain Schuyler’s sister. Take me 
to him,” panted Betsey. 

She told her tale as briefly as possible. 
Beneath the tan of a year in camp, Philip 
Schuyler turned white. 

“He has gone — and unattended! The devil 
himself could n’t overtake his Excellency on his 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


35 


white charger,” muttered the young captain of 
the body-guard. “ Come with me to Colonel 
Hamilton.” 

He led the way toward the Morris Mansion, 
and Betsey was ushered into its former draw- 
ing-room. At a table in the centre of the apart- 
ment sat a boy, writing. He may have been a 
few years Betsey’s senior, but he was not so 
tall by several inches, and his slight, delicate 
frame, and a face which, thougji keen and alert, 
had not lost the roundness of its early years, 
added to the impression of extreme youth. A 
pair of deep-set dark eyes was fixed upon the 
unexpected visitor, and then the boy threw back 
his beautifully shaped head, and broke into a 
peal of apparently irresistible laughter. 

Betsey flushed hotly as a sudden vivid picture 
of her appearance arose before her. Her pretty 
chintz frock — no longer recognizable — hung 
in tattered and bedraggled folds that slapped, at 
every movement, about her ankles ; her hat had 
been somewhere left behind on her late journey, 
and, as she impatiently brushed her disheveled 
hair from out her eyes, her face, dripping with 
exertion, had become grotesquely streaked and 
stained with the soil with which her hands were 
encrusted. 


36 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 

My sister,” announced Captain Schuyler, 
stiffly ; and, turning to Betsey, “ Colonel 
Hamilton,” he added, with pointed formality. 

“ I crave your pardon,” said Colonel Hamil- 
ton, instantly grave, and, with a low bow, placed 
a chair for his visitor. Betsey struggled to 
grasp the fact that this handsome, rude boy 
was General Washington’s confidential secre- 
tary and first aid-de-camp. As her brother 
briefly rehearsed the story. Colonel Hamilton 
listened in silence, his close - set mouth grow- 
ing more compressed. At the mention of the 
prison ship, a fire came into the magnificent 
eyes that transfigured the whole mobile face. 

*‘Good God; I saw one of those floating 
hells at the West Indies ! ” he cried. “ The 
prisoners were packed, like herrings, into a 
filthy oven in the hold of the vessel, without 
decent food, or water that was fit to drink, 
denied even the means of the commonest 
decency. The poor wretches, cursing, in a 
breath, heaven and their hellish masters, crip- 
pled and distorted with rheumatism, and rotting 
with putrid fever out of all semblance to 
humanity, went raving mad, or became drivel- 
ing idiots before death at last released them 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


37 


from their sufferings. General Washington!'' 
He shuddered and put his hands before his 
eyes. 

Only for an instant did emotion overmaster. 
Stepping to a topographical map that hung on 
the wall, — 

“ You know the country t " he queried. 

Every inch,” answered Captain Schuyler, 
promptly. 

There are woods in front of the Philipse 
house ? " 

“An orchard.” 

, Hamilton went on in rapid direction. 

“ Detail Morgan and a squad of his riflemen. 
He is to dispose of them in the orchard ; they 
have learnt the Indian art of making themselves 
invisible, and the British stand in wholesome 
awe of their skill as marksmen. Instruct 
Morgan that when his Excellency displays his 
handkerchief at the window, instantly to throw 
himself upon the house. Bid him have a care 
not to precipitate matters. The evident aim of 
the conspirators is to secure General Washing- 
ton alive, but they will not lightly let him slip 
through their fingers. Conly’s name, alone, 
stamps the character of the plot; he. was one 


38 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


of Brower’s men, who, by a miracle, escaped 
the fate of his mates when they were hanged at 
Jamaica for their atrocious crimes, of which 
piracy was the least,” concluded the young 
West Indian. Report for further orders.” 

Captain Schuyler saluted and left the room. 

‘‘Your brother will mount you to your 
home,” Hamilton went on, turning to Betsey. 
“Then saddle your own horse and ride on to 
Manor Hall. At this juncture, you are the 
only person who can effect entrance without 
exciting suspicion. Get his Excellency’s ear. 
Say to him — unseen, hark you — that if he 
hears proposed the health of the King, instantly 
to display his handkerchief at the window. 
Remember, it is General Washington’s life, the 
fate of the country itself, that hangs in the 
balance, and depends upon your prompt and 
discreet action. Can we rely upon you ? ” ' 

“Yes,” answered the girl, and all her love 
for her friend seemed compressed into the 
word. To save General Washington was to 
save him for Miss Philipse. That had been the 
guiding thought throughout the intense strain 
of the past few hours, and its inspiration now 
strung her aching limbs and over -wrought 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 39 

nerves to renewed effort. “I will tell Miss 
Philipse,” she added, confidently. 

Hamilton started, and in his most imperious 
tones cried : 

“ On your life, no ! Miss Philipse is at the 
bottom of the affair ! ” 

She knows nothing of it ! ” exclaimed the 
girl, angrily. Why, she has been away from 
home ever since Colonel Morris has been 
there.” 

“ Exactly ; at Col. Beverly Robinson’s,” re- 
joined Hamilton, calmly. 

“ I don’t believe it ? You don’t know her. 
You have no right to say such a thing ! ” cried 
the girl, in a passionate, incoherent outburst. 
“ Miss Philipse could do no wrong ! ” 

With his burning eyes holding the girl in 
spite of herself, Hamilton, with the grasp and 
succinctness of the born lawyer, summed up his 
terrible indictment. 

“The Tories are the most implacable and 
virulent of our enemies. Miss Philipse’s Tory 
sympathies are well known. She is in constant 
communication with Colonel Robinson, whose 
house is the headquarters of the Tory element. 
It is by her appointment that General Washing- 


40 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


ton visits Manor Hall this afternoon. I have 
heard mention of an old love affair between her 
and his Excellency, in which, if report has not 
garbled, the lady had some reason to hold 
herself slighted. 

“ ‘ Hell knows no fury like a woman 
scorned,’ ” quoted Hamilton, who had the repu- 
tation of being a scholar. “ Moreover,” he 
added, in his crisp, concise tones, “ if the end 
were merely to crush the provincial cause, the 
ignominy of the gallows would supply the most 
effective means. A knowledge of women 
readily instructs that to destroy an enemy’s 
good looks is essentially a woman’s revenge,” 
he concluded, with a touch of youthful brag- 
gadocio that would have been amusing under 
less serious circumstances. 

Captain Schuyler returned with the report 
that Morgan and his men, in their saddles in 
instant obedience to their leader’s “ turkey- 
call ” summons, were already on the road. 
Betsey left the room with her brother. 

“ What a hateful, horrid boy ! ” she exclaimed, 
before the door had hardly closed behind them. 

‘‘ Every one either loves or hates Alexander 
Hamilton,” returned Captain Schuyler. 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


41 


Well, I hate him,” cried the girl, with a 
vehemence that was unheedful of the near 
presence of the object of her dislike. 

Never had Betsey’s horse sped over the oft- 
traversed river road at such a pace. Only 
once did his mistress draw rein. As she neared 
Kingsbridge, three men suddenly scrambled 
down the bank, where they had been con- 
cealed behind a thicket, playing cards, and held 
her up. They proved to belong to a body of 
the neighboring country folk, recently banded 
together under the leadership of John Paulding, 
an old farmer of Tarry town, for the purpose of 
waging a kind of independent warfare against 
the British marauders known as “ cowboys,” who 
infested the lower stretch of river road, har- 
assing the inhabitants and carrying aid and 
comfort to the British troops in New York. 
As one of the men, David Williams by name, 
was a tenant on the Manor of Philipsburgh, and 
well known to Betsey, she was speedily on her 
way again, with the cheery words, — 

“We only stop bad people. A pleasant ride 
to you. Miss Betsey, and my respects to Miss 
Philipse ! ” 

In former times, there had been many mar- 


42 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


riages between the English officers stationed at 
New York, — ^one of the most important military 
posts in the colonies, — and the fair Colonial 
dames, and these alliances were the paramount 
reason of the present strong Tory influence in 
the tpwn. At the beginning of the struggle, it 
was inevitable that there should result much 
heartburning when, as often happened, the in- 
terests of kith and kin, or the ofttimes far 
stronger bonds of friendship, pulled in one direc- 
tion, while patriotism and conviction tugged with 
equal force in the other. But though some- 
thing of the inner meaning of war had come 
home to Betsey, this most poignant experience, 
as of brother raising his hand against brother, 
she had hitherto been spared. The influence 
of Miss Philipse was too strong, the conviction 
of her infallibility too inviolate, to permit any 
question as to her party sympathies. Besides, 
“Tory” or “rebel,” she remained Miss Philipse. 
It was not that Betsey’s faith in her friend was 
assailed by the cruel words to which she had 
been forced to listen; girlish loyalty is not 
lightly shaken. But, in spite of herself, the 
burning eyes of Alexander Hamilton had laid 
their ukase upon her thoughts, as well as on 



“BETSEY’S HORSE SPED OVER THE OFT - TRAVERSED RIVER ROAD. 



4 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


45 


her acts and speech, as they were wont to 
coerce the wills of wiser and stronger people 
than Betsey. 

Truth and loyalty were gone out of the world 
when Miss Philipse could do wrong. 

She had reached, at last, St. John’s Church, 
where, in spite of the commands of Congress, 
the King’s name was still retained in the 
liturgy. She had turned from the river road, 
and was galloping along the driveway leading 
to Manor Hall ; there was a glimpse of a figure 
in blue and buff seated in the embrasure of 
the drawing-room window, and then she felt 
the saddle slipping from under her and was 
flung headlong, her head striking against some- 
thing hard. 

When she recovered consciousness, it was to 
find herself on a big four -posted bed, with a 
high tester, and a valance of red and white 
India patch. A turbaned head was bending 
over her ankle with some hot embrocation, and 
there was a queer pungent smell, as of some- 
thing burning, in the air. Opposite, was a big 
fireplace faced with quaint Dutch tiles repre- 
senting scenes from Bible history ; an over- 


46 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 

mantel, wrought with arabesques of the English 
rose, was surmounted by a device of a crowned 
lion, rampant, rising from a coronet ; as Betsey’s 
bewildered gaze strayed to the familiar Philipse 



crest, all at once her thoughts grew clear. A 
wave of recollection spent itself in the cry, — 

“ General Washington ! ” 

The valance was pushed aside, and Miss 
Philipse’s face, pale and anxious, looked down 
upon her. 


A LOYAL LITTL^E MAID. 


47 


“ Don’t try to move, dear. Your foot caught 
in the stirrup, and I am afraid your ankle is 
sprained.” 

“ General Washington ! ” repeated the girl, 
mechanically, her thoughts apparently unable to 
advance beyond the point where everything had 
ended in darkness. 

“Yes, darling, it was General Washington 
who carried you here, in his own arms,” said 
Miss Philipse, soothingly. “He saw the acci- 
dent from the drawing-room window, and was 
instantly on the spot. Draw the bandage tight. 
Rose,” she directed to the slave woman. 
“ Does it hurt } ” she added, bending low over 
the bed. 

But it was not physical pain that wrung the 
moan from Betsey. Her glance had fallen on 
the clock upon the mantel shelf. It lacked but 
five minutes of five o’clock ! 

General Washingtons life — the fate of the 
country — hung in the balance, and she lay 
there, helpless! “Not a word to Miss Phil- 
ipse I ” rang the masterful voice. 

What, keep silence 1 with the touch of that 
soft hand on her forehead, with the beautiful 
eyes looking lovingly and pityingly into her 


48 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


own ? Straightway Betsey forgot the lesson 
that had been read her by the youthful mas- 
ter whose intuitive insight and foresight made 
him one of the marvels of the age; forgot 
that those who were older and wiser than 
herself had taken the matter in hand and 
that it was now her part to obey ; forgot 
the momentous issues that hung upon her 
action. She only knew that truth and loyalty 
were in the world, and Miss Philipse could do 
no wrong ! 

She flung her arms about her friend’s neck 
and whispered. Miss Philipse gave a slight 
start ; a strange, set look came into her face, 
and then, without query or comment, she swiftly 
left the room. Through the open door, Betsey 
heard the murmur of voices in the hall below. 
Then she distinguished Colonel Philipse’s tones, 
saying,— 

“ May I be permitted to offer a glass of wine 
to your Excellency } ” 

^‘Will not his Excellency allow me to show 
him the view from the staircase landing ? ” 
suggested Miss Philipse. 

Their footsteps ascended the broad, low 
stairs. It was but a moment that they lin- 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


49 


gered before the window, for other matters 
claimed General Washington than a fair 
scene of water and woodland. Had Miss 
Philipse opportunity to voice the warning, 
with her brother and Colonel Morris intent 



in the hall below.? Would Colonel Morgan 
be on time — would he see the signal .? 
And somewhere, in her inmost conscious- 
ness, the warning words of Alexander Hamil- 
ton rang with dizzy pertinacity. Miss Philipse 
and the three gentlemen went into the dining- 


50 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


room and their voices were no longer audible 
from above. 

The wine was poured. Frederick Philipse 
raised his glass. 

“ His Majesty^ the King ! ” 


IV. 


Washington turned and placed his imtasted 
glass upon the window-seat. As he did so, 
there was an almost imperceptible movement 
of his left hand toward the breast - pocket of 
his coat. 

Hardly had the toast left the lips of Fred- 
erick Philipse, when the door of the clock 
was flung violently back and a redcoated 
figure stepped through the aperture ; another, 
and yet another, till half a score of armed 
men stood drawn up in line, passively awaiting 
orders. 

Colonel Morris advanced a step or two. 
Something held him from farther approach. 

“ I trust you see that resistance is useless,” 
he said. Mr. Washington, you are my 
prisoner ! ” 

Washington stood silent and motionless, one 
hand behind his back, the other resting on the 
hilt of his sword. But he was not good for his 
foes to look upon. 

51 


52 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


It was not alone that the high temper nearly 
broke loose and ran uncontrolled at the aspect 
of the broken troth plight of hospitality, sacred 
to the Virginian as to the Norseman of old, and 
of the cowardice that would overwhelm a de- 
fenceless man with numbers. At the sight of 
the armed men, there had arisen the fighting 
spirit, before which even savage warriors had 
quailed, the indomitable eagerness for the fray, 
the love of battle for battle’s sake, that flowed 
in his veins with the hot blood of his race — of 
those far-off Norman de Wessypgtons. The 
veins stood out on his temples, the blue-gray 
eyes grew clear and dark, with the glint of 
steel, the jaw was more firmly set, the massive 
figure towered with the force that, far back in 
the centuries, had stood in the forefront of 
battle and wrested for itself, by the spirit of 
all that is boldest and worthiest in man, the 
“ divine right ” of kings ! 

The iron will had reasserted its mastery. 

“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” said 
Washington, imperturbably, ‘‘but you are my 
prisoners ! ” 

There was the sudden trample of many feet 
in the hall without, and into the room trooped a 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


53 


score of big men, in fringed hunting-shirts and 
with levelled rifles. 

“If you decide to remain, I will give you all 
the protection in my power,” said Washington. 

Miss Philipse shook her head, gravely and 
sadly. 

“ How could I accept the protection of one 
who is in arms against my King ? ” she an- 
swered, with the gentle dignity, the sweet and 
serious simplicity, that belonged to her. 

“ Colonel Morris and your brother shall be 
released on their paroles,” continued Washing- 
ton ; “ but I should not be doing my duty if I 
suffered Colonel Philipse to remain at Philips- 
burgh. The Hudson is the key to the whole 
situation ; I cannot endanger its possession.” 

There was no suggestion of rancor in his 
tones. Although treachery, like cowardice, was 
something he could not understand, his mag- 
nanimity was greater than his scorn. He was 
pacing the room to and fro, as was his habit 
when deeply perturbed. 

“ I could not remain in a land where the 
name of my King must no more be mentioned, 
even in prayer. If we could reach our friends 


54 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


in New York, they would assist us to England. 
John Williams, our faithful steward, will remain 
here and care for the estate,” said Miss Philipse. 
She spoke quietly and collectedly, as though 
the words were the result of some long fore- 
seen contingency. “ Years ago, it was foretold 
us, ‘Your possessions shall pass from you, 
when the eagle shall despoil the lion of his 
mane.’ Th^ mysterious words have grown 
clear ; for from the hour you drew your sword 
beneath the Cambridge elm, the commander- 
in-chief of the Continental Army, I knew that 
these Colonies were lost to King George for- 
ever ! ” 

They had withdrawn to the upper chamber 
to hold their brief parting conference, forgetting 
or disregardful of the child’s presence on the 
bed. Too full of love, and sorrow, and rever- 
ence for tears ; feeling vaguely that she was in 
the presence of something that was beyond her 
girlish understanding, Betsey listened, perforce, 
to the words that followed, but with no more 
taint of curiosity than the guardian angels listen. 
She might have let the valance veil her sight, 
but there her strength failed her. Foreboding, 
soon deepened to certainty, lay heavily upon 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


55 


her heart, that the time in which she could look 
upon her beloved friend was fast drawing to a 
close. She plucked back a corner of the cur- 
tain, and gazed hungrily upon every detail of a 
picture whose memory must last her forever. 

Miss Philipse stood at one end of the fire- 
place, with a hand resting lightly on the mantel 
shelf. She was dressed in a delicate blue and 
white copperplate calico, with a muslin apron, 
over a flounced petticoat of blue lutestring ; a 
half handkerchief, knotted with straw ribbons, 
was folded, kerchiefwise, over her breast ; her 
hair, drawn back in loose waves from her lovely 
pale face, was partially concealed beneath a 
frilled muslin cap, from which soft dark curls 
drooped low in the neck behind. 

Washington stood at the other end of the fire- 
place, in the prime of his magnificent manhood. 

“ You have saved my life at the cost of your 
beloved home,” he said, at length, in low, 
strained tones. 

“ I would have saved your life at the cost of 
my own ! ” returned Mary Philipse, and, for the 
first time, there was a tremor in her voice. 

Her downcast eyes were raised slowly, as 
though impelled by an irresistible impulse, and 


56 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 

through a mist met his own, in which the pen- 
sive look had deepened to sadness. It was by 
a supreme effort of the iron will that Washing- 
ton held the distance between them. 

I thought to find you the wife of Roger 
Morris,” he said, quietly. 

“ I have given no man the right to hold me 
in his thoughts as wife,” answered Mary Philipse, 
slowly and w^deringly. 

There was a deadly stillness in Washington’s 
voice when its tones again broke the silence. 

That night — do you remember — we danced 
the minuet together, I asked your permission to 
wait upon you on my return from Boston. De- 
spite my utmost urgencies, when I arrived 
again at the house of Beverly Robinson, I was 
three little days too late. You had returned to 
Manor Hall, and your sister told me of your 
betrothal to Roger Morris, yesterday’s con- 
summation of a long-standing family compact.” 

‘‘Susannah is dead,” said Mary Philipse, 
softly. “ It was the dearest wish of her heart 
to see the Jumel place added to the Manor of 
Philipsburgh.” A subtle echo rang in the words 
that lay not in their spoken sense — “ May 
Heaven forgive her, and help me to forgive 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


57 


her ! ” Shortly after, I heard of your marriage 
with the Widow Custis,’’ she added, presently. 

She has been a good and faithful wife to 
me. God knows my heart has never strayed 
from her,” said Washington, simply. 

There was a silence that was long in the 
reckoning that is not of minutes. Then each 
looked into the other’s face, as they look who 
may not look again, and to the words that were 
wrung from them, the child and the angels 
listened. 

As I passed beneath the gallery, you flung 
a rose to me ! ” 

“ As you passed out of sight, you waved your 
hand to me ! ” 

There was no tremor in the gentle tones, and 
no mist dimmed the light — finer and purer and 
higher than even the love light of long ago — in 
the beautiful eyes, as Mary Philipse spoke her 
farewell words. 

“ I saw you, even then, one on whom God 
had laid His consecrating hand. I see you now, 
the great soldier who shall fight this war to a 
successful issue. I shall see you the statesman, 
standing at the head of the nation he has done 
more than any other man to make, silent amidst 


58. A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 

every difficulty, firm before every onslaught, 
aiming at no other ends than his country’s, his 
God’s and truth’s. May my prayers shield 
you and aid you, even in your high estate ! 
More than all, I shall see you, as I have al- 
ways seen you, — for did any human being ever 
bate one jot of his faith in you! — the pure, 
^ high-minded gentleman, of dauntless courage 
and stainless honor. God grant I may not die, 
till I see the land, for which you have fought 
and toiled, in the foremost rank of nations.” 

He bent his head low over her outstretched 
hand. 

“ God be with you,” he said. 


V. 

The neighborhood of the lower Hudson was 
again the scene of active warfare, and Betsey’s 
continued sojourn at the summer home was in- 
expedient, if not dangerous. Fortunately, at 
this juncture. General Schuyler was appointed 
to the command of the northern army, and as 
his headquarters were at the family mansion 
in Albany, he was enabled to relieve his anxi- 
ety concerning his little daughter by transfer- 
ring her thither. Here, busied with the many 
and varied cares of a large household, three 
years passed. 

Late one afternoon in midsummer, Betsey’s 
little negro maid, Marian, came to her mistress’s 
bedroom with the tidings that a guest had 
arrived, who would sup and spend the night. 

‘^Let the squirrel pasty and the haunch of 
cold venison be served,” directed Betsey. “ I 
prepared a sufficient variety of cakes this morn- 
ing, and there is an abundance of hickory and 
other nuts cracked. Fresh strawberries and 


59 


6o 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


wild grape jelly will no doubt be welcome to a 
traveller, and the compote of our ground cherry 
may not be amiss to one who knows not the 
flavor of that rare fruit. You heard not his 
name, Marian } ” 

“ He is called Colonel Hamilton,” answered 
^the girl. 

Betsey started and dropped her bunch of 
keys, which in housewifely fashion was sus- 
pended from her girdle. 

“ Was he short and slight, but of rare grace 
and activity ; had he burning dark eyes — eyes 
that once seen could never be forgotten } ” she 
questioned, eagerly. 

“That is he,” returned the maid. “You 
know him, then.?” she added, with deep in- 
terest. 

The little slave girl, when three years old, 
had been given to Betsey as a birthday present ; 
in the close companionship of the succeeding 
years, there had grown up between mistress 
and maid a degree of familiarity in which, on 
the one side, a care and protection that held no 
suggestion of the harsh rule of authority was 
met, on the other, by a single-hearted devotion 
that made its mistress’s interests its own. 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


6l 


Betsey had matured rapidly in the past three 
years ; her domestic responsibilities, her close 
contact with the stirring life of the times, as 
the daughter of one of the leaders of the Revo- 
lution, the frequent visits at the Schuyler man- 
sion of men whose minds were making their 
impress upon the age, had all contributed to 
this result. But she was still a girl in years, 
and the need of a youthful confidant was some- 
times imperative. 

“ I saw him but once,” she answered ; “ ’t was 
years ago ; doubtless he has forgotten. Tell 
me, Marian, am I not much changed since we 
came to Albany ? ” she went on, drawing her- 
self to her full height. “ I am taller, my face 
is not so round ; this fashion of dressing my 
hair over a cushion gives me quite a different 
air, does it not ” 

Marian regarded her mistress dubiously. 

“ In that white jaconet muslin, with the frill 
of scalloped lace about your neck, and the 
bright morone sash, you look just as you did 
three years ago,” she answered, decidedly. “ In 
the blue brocade, now, you are such a stately 
dame that I am sure no one would know you 
who may have seen you in New York.” 


62 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


^‘Then fetch me the blue brocade, Marian,” 
cried Betsey. ‘‘ Doubtless Colonel Hamilton 
comes on an official mission, and I would show 
him all the attention that is due his Excellency’s 
special envoy, and not less his own distin- 
guished merits, for, notwithstanding his youth, 
’tis said that Alexander Hamilton does the 
thinking of the times.” 

Her toilet completed, Betsey regarded herself 
critically in the mirror. The blue brocade, with 
its pointed stomacher, opened in front over a 
long trained skirt of crimson satin, without 
vanity, became her right well; the green mo- 
rocco slippers with the high heels added a good 
inch to her height, and the two little half-moon 
patches — one on her cheek and the other on 
her forehead — gave an air of the mode that 
would surely dispel any possible vague recollec- 
tion of a dirty-faced little girl. But — 

“ I fear I do not look so very old, after all ; 
not nearly so old as did Aunt Schuyler in this 
very gown,” she sighed. 

“Madam Schuyler was a very old lady — 
nearly fifty years old when she died,” rejoined 
Marian. “ But perhaps I made a mistake 
in suggesting the brocade,” she added, regard- 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 63 

ing her mistress critically. <‘Your eyes are 
brighter than usual, and your cheeks are very 
red ! ” 

“ I will endeavor to add ten, twenty years to 
my age by the dignity of my demeanor, and the 
gravity of my speech ! The late surrender of 
Burgoyne and the proceedings of Congress will 
afford becoming themes. ’T is the fashion in 
Albany not to rise in receiving company ; in 
New York, they are wont to greet a guest in 
different wise. I would not that Colonel Ham- 
ilton think we know nothing of courtly ways in 
our little provincial town.” Betsey swept a low 
curtsy to her own reflection in the glass. 

“ Colonel Hamilton comes, then, from New 
York } ” queried Marian. 

“He came there, at an early age, from 
Jamaica.” 

Jamaica ! ” 

Marian dropped the jaconet gown she was 
smoothing out, and her eyeballs rolled up till a 
ghastly extent of white appeared. 

“ Why should not Colonel Hamilton be born 
in Jamaica, or anywhere else if he so pleases ! ” 
exclaimed Betsey, impatiently. 

“Jamaica — bad place!” chattered the girl. 


64 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


“ You foolish child ! Bad people go to 
Jamaica, they do not come from there ! ” cried 
Betsey. 

But this was too fine a distinction for the 
little slave girl’s comprehension. Her knees 
shook beneath her, and her face had a hideous 
livid pallor. 

I am ashamed of you, Marian ! ” said Bet- 
sey, severely. “Could you not read in Colonel 
Hamilton’s eyes that he would wittingly do no 
one harm, even in thought ? Those eyes belie 
him sorely, if, despite the occasional self-suffi- 
ciency of youth, he could ever be aught but the 
just and generous gentleman.” 

But Marian, muttering something that may 
have been either an attempt at self-exculpation, 
or an incoherent expression of terror, slipped 
from the room. Betsey, supposing she had 
gone to the kitchen, to aid, as usual, in the 
preparation of the supper, soon followed. Ab- 
sorbed in her own thoughts, she did not notice 
the absence of the usual servants about the 
hall or corridors. To her surprise, the kitchen 
was empty ! A survey of the outbuildings, and 
a glance from their several windows, revealed 
no one in sight. The recollection of Marian’s 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


65 


fright dispelled the momentary mystification. 
The servants had taken flight in a body, before 
the spell of that terrible word, Jamaica ! 

General Schuyler had been suddenly called 
away on some official errand, leaving his guest 
on the portico to await his early return. The 
portico at the Flats — as the Schuyler estate 
was called — was the most characteristic feature 
of the house. The dining-room — or eating- 
room, as it was usually called — was a sunless 
apartment, hung with Scripture paintings of a 
gloomy tenor, and was used only when the 
exigencies of the weather compelled. The 
portico was not only, from early summer, 
the living-room of the family, but was also 
drawing-room and dining-room. It was open at 
the sides, while overhead a light latticework, 
covered with the luxurious growth of a wild 
grapevine, afforded protection from the sun. 
A seat ran around the sides, and on a long, 
narrow shelf above a number of birds’ nests 
were arranged. Numerous birds of a bright 
cinnamon brown color were darting hither and 
thither in the flickering sunlight, or rustling 
about in the foliage overhead ; others were glid- 
ing over the table with a butterfly or a cherry 


66 A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 

in their bills with which to feed their young, 
who were chirping from the nests on the shelf, 
or from out the shelter of the leafy roof. Sev- 
eral of the tame little creatures were hopping 
about the bench by the stranger’s side, or 
venturing inquisitively upon his knees and 
arms. He sat motionless, watching their move- 
ments intently. 

The chirping of innumerable insects mingled 
with the twittering of the wrens ; the lowing 
of the cows, wending their homeward way from 
the common, sounded from beyond the garden ; 
leading thence to the village street was a long 
avenue, bordered by Morelia cherry-trees, which 
were evidently regarded by the birds as their 
especial storehouse. A wren, with a particularly 
fine cherry dangling from its bill, let go its hold 
prematurely, and' the fruit fell into Hamilton’s 
hand, as it lay palm upward, upon his knee ; 
involuntarily the hand closed, and the wren, 
instantly lighting upon it, cocked his head to 
one side, and, in a storm of vituperative twitter- 
ings, gave vent to his anger and indignation at 
this bold-faced robbery. Hamilton threw back 
his head with the gesture that betrayed his 
youth, and laughed aloud. 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


67 


A charming figure appeared in the doorway- 
in a stately garb that accentuated the graceful 
outlines and girlish bloom of its wearer. Betsey’s 
steps were nicely balanced, and her face was 
preternaturally grave, with two little frowning 



lines between the brows, brought there partly 
by the provoking domestic exigency, and partly 
by the difficulty of managing a train whilst 
carrying a pasty that plainly needed both hands 
for its support. 


68 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


Let me help you ! ” cried Hamilton, and 
sprang to her aid. 

One on each side, the pasty was set upon the 
table. Hamilton fell back a step or two. 

“ I have the honor of addressing Miss 
Schuyler.?” he said, with a low bow. “We 
have met before.” 

The stately curtsy seemed ignominiously out 
of place. Betsey’s equanimity, already sorely 
tried, was unequal to a reply in courtly phrase, 
and only her native honesty dictated her answer. 

“ I thought — I hoped you had forgotten ! ” 

“I had not forgotten,” returned Hamilton, 
quietly. “ It was, indeed, my unofficial mission 
to Albany to tell you that I erred grievously at 
our former meeting,” he went on, in his simple, 
direct fashion, the exponent of a magnanimity 
of which only a proud, upright nature, self- 
convicted of error, is capable. “ I crave your 
pardon for the wrong I did your friend.” 

But a hard, cold look had come into Betsey’s 
loyal blue eyes that boded ill for Hamilton’s 
petition. And he, partly because of the pure 
integrity of a nature that could not rest content 
with a wrong unrighted, though committed only 
in thought, partly because of the imperious 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 69 

will that brooked no opposition to its ungar- 
nished yea or nay, went on in the tones, irresist- 
ibly winning, that could wring assent from the 
most stubborn adversary. 

“ Philip told me how she saved General 
Washington’s life, knowing well what the cost 
would be. All that night I heard his Excellency 
pacing his room ; even I, his most trusted 
friend, dared not approach. Afterward, as you 
know, when Colonel Philipse broke his parole 
and was attainted for treason, she was unjustly 
included in the sentence, and the Manor of 
Philipsburgh was confiscated by Congress. I 
was not behind General Washington in the 
endeavor to right the cruel wrong. Letter after 
letter was written ; but in vain his Excellency 
expostulated, urged, condemned ; in vain I put 
his representations into the strongest, most 
convincing words at my command. I journeyed 
to Philadelphia to hold personal conference with 
Congress ; but in its fatuity, its self-sufficiency, 
its bat -like opposition to every measure pro- 
posed by Washington, because, forsooth, they 
fancy him aiming at supreme power, — Miss 
Philipse, the one woman out of the records of 
the time, must stand, forever, as traitor! Be- 


70 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


lieve me, all that man could do I have done. 
If I judged harshly, precipitately, cruelly, if 
love of my friend made me, for the moment, 
unlovely toward yours, will you not forgive me 
for a horrid, hateful boy ? ” 

He spoke with the clear, calm reason, the 
temperate self-assertion of maturity ; yet it was 
less the direct appeal of his words than that 
which rang in his tones, — the flawless gen- 
erosity of a nature incapable of harboring rO' 
sentment, by which Betsey stood all at once 
convicted before the court of conscience of an 
unjust and paltry grudge; and the echo of her 
own childish, passionate words added to the 
weight of the self-accusation. 

But the rankling memory of the laugh at the 
ragged, dirty -faced little girl was not readily 
assuaged. Forgiveness might come by and by ; 
but for the present, — well, for the present, she 
must set before him the daintiest fare her 
housewifely stores afforded, and herself serve 
him at table as an honored guest. 

Our servants have fled,” she said, demurely. 

My father will soon, doubtless, be able to 
persuade them to return ; but, meantime, will 
you pardon me if household duties call me ? ” 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


71 


“ They have not run away ? ” queried Hamil- 
ton, perhaps with some vague reminiscence of 
the life of the negro slaves in the West Indies. 

“ I think they have gone no further than a 
clearing in the Bush, a few miles from here, 
where a settler has been wont to receive them 
kindly. Our people are warmly attached to 
us ; it is seldom, indeed, that any one in Albany 
has an unruly servant ; but when all gentle 
means have failed to win such a one to better 
courses, he is sold to Jamaica. And the dread 
of that fate amongst the negroes is so great 
that they have to be carefully watched on 
the boat to New York, lest they attempt self- 
destruction. Jamaica stands to them for I 
know not what of horror ; so — they are very 
ignorant, very foolish — when they heard that 
you were from Jamaica — ” 

“ Instead of their going to Jamaica, it was 
Jamaica coming to them,” finished Hamilton. 
“ I crave your pardon, again, for having unwit- 
tingly brought such panic into your house- 
hold.” 

It might be that she had erred as grievously 
as the servants in her conception of Alexander 
Hamilton. Perhaps she would forgive him. 


72 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


quite, before his departure. She was glad he 
was to remain but one night — almost. 

The following morning Betsey was early 
upon the portico. It was her custom, before the 
round of daily household duties began, to gather 
a supply of cherries, and place a portion beside 
each nest on the shelf ; the chirping and twitter- 
ing that followed told that her ministrations 
were appreciated. She had scarcely finished 
her task, when Hamilton appeared, booted and 
spurred for an early journey. 

“ It has been an unusually hot summer,” ex- 
plained Betsey ; our wrens’ wings have drooped 
sadly with the heat and the difficulty of finding 
food ; so I have been helping them. Hark, do 
you hear that ! ” she exclaimed, eagerly, and 
held up her finger to enjoin silence. 

It was the notes of a bird, exquisitely modu- 
lated, rising from a few single notes, seemingly 
shaken from its throat like dewdrops from the 
heart of a rose, and swelling into a sustained 
volume of melody, of wonderful compass and 
variety ; the song died away as it had begun, in 
the crystal clear, scattered notes. 

“ It is unlike the song of any bird I ever 
heard ! ” cried Betsey, breathlessly. “ It sang 



“ ‘ HARK, DO YOU HEAR THAT ? ’ ” 




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A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 75 

for hours in the moonlight last night, as I lay 
awake.” 

“ It is a mocking-bird,” explained Hamilton. 

I did not know that it built so far north as 
this latitude. That is its call note,” he added, 
as a single long, mournful note sounded from 
the upper branches of a tree in the garden. 

“There must be a nest there ! ” 

“ Doubtless; ’tis the breeding season.” 

“ I wish the tree were not so high. I should 
much like to see the eggs,” said Betsey, wistfully. 

“ I will get one for you,” volunteered Ham- 
ilton. 

“ Oh, but indeed you must not ! ” cried 
Betsey. “ We never allow our birds to be 
molested ; they always know if an egg has been 
touched, and are most indignant at the outrage. 
I am afraid the mocking-bird would leave us if 
its nest were disturbed. Besides, you might 
get hurt yourself, and — and his Excellency 
would be so very sorry ! ” 

“My spurs will serve as spike nails,” returned 
Hamilton ; “ there are usually five eggs. They 
can surely spare us one.” 

“ I should like much to have that glorious 
song where I could hear it through our long 


76 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


winter. Perhaps, if I had the egg — ” hesitated 
Betsey. 

Hamilton was already in the garden. He 
soon returned and placed a small egg in Bet- 
sey’s eagerly outstretched hand. 

How pretty, how charming it is ! ” she cried. 

See how the lovely pale green is flecked and 
splashed with the dainty brown ! ” 

“ Blue, is it not ? ” queried Hamilton. 

His head and Betsey’s nearly touched as they 
bent together over the egg. Very gently, 
Hamilton placed his hand beneath hers that 
he might more closely scrutinize the debated 
color. 

I think it is green,” repeated Betsey, weigh- 
ing her words. “ In this light, so, is it not ? ” 
Her blue eyes were raised, gravely, to Hamil- 
ton’s face. 

“ In Albany, blue is the fairer color,” he 
answered, smiling. “ I have not heard a mock- 
ing-bird since I left Jamaica,” he added. 

“Jamaica must be a beautiful land with such 
music to fill the nights,” said Betsey, with a 
gentle inflection in her voice that held more 
than the spoken query ; and it was tone rather 
than words that Hamilton answered. 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


77 


The sunlight flickered through the foliage 
overhead, dancing over her simple muslin gown, 
and touching the broad, fair forehead, from 
which the little sunbonnet had been pushed in 
the heat. Now and again a wren lit on her 
shoulder, or hopped upon her arm, with grate- 
ful twitterings. Hamilton stood by her side, 
his hand still aiding hers to support the weight 
of the egg. 

‘‘To me, as to your servants, Jamaica was 
ever the land of slavery,” he made answer, 
gravely. “ While I would willingly have risked 
my life, though not my character, to exalt my 
station, my fortune condemned me to the 
grovelling occupation of a clerk. As I was 
but twelve years of age, I realized that my 
youth stood in the way of immediate prefer- 
ment, but I determined to prepare the way for 
futurity.” 

“ And the time came ? ” questioned Betsey, 
softly. 

“ The time came at last,” assented Hamilton, 
with his transfiguring smile. “ My relatives 
deemed a slight essay from my pen on one of 
our tropical hurricanes not unworthy of com- 
mendation, and they decided that I should be 


78 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


given the advantages of an education. Accord- 
ingly, I took ship for Boston, and soon after 
arrived in New York and entered King’s Col- 
lege. Fifteen months or less would have 
sufficed to carry me through the course, but 
the war broke out, and I left my books to offer 
my services to the provincial cause.” 

“ Then you are quite, quite alone ? ” queried 
Betsey, with unfeigned interest and sympathy. 

My mother died early, and my father, whom 
I never knew, left me to the care of distant 
relatives. As a child, I had but one companion 
of my own age.” 

^‘It is sad to be alone,” said Betsey, seriously. 
“ Never did children, I am sure, grow up in 
such joyous companionship as we in Albany. 
From the time we were five or six years old, 
we were divided into little companies of some 
twenty boys and girls, who shared with one 
another all their games and diversions, all their 
joys and sorrows — if indeed, we then knew 
aught of sorrow ! We seemed like the mem- 
bers of one large family. Indeed, I think there 
is scarce a person in Albany who is not called 
‘ cousin ’ by every one else, although it may oft 
happen that the kinship is somewhat remote or 
obscure.” 


A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. 


79 


“ I have no cousins of my own,” said Hamil- 
ton. “ Why should not we be cousins ? I 
should like to be your cousin,” he repeated, 
eagerly. 

“ I am sure I should like very well to have 
you for my cousin,” returned Betsey, simply. 

Impetuous in his wooing as over his books, 
or in storming a redoubt, Hamilton raised her 
hand to his lips. 

“ You don’t hate me — now } ” he questioned, 
softly. 

“ Not now,” she whispered. 

In the following spring, Hamilton journeyed 
to Albany again, this time upon a mission of a 
different character. He and Betsey parted, not 
as cousins, but as betrothed lovers ; and in 
December of the same year, at the little Dutch 
church by the river, Betsey Schuyler was mar- 
ried to Alexander Hamilton. 

THE END. 




CHARMING JUVENILE SERIES 


5 ? 

A Series of Short Original Stories, or Reprints of Well-known 
Favorites for the Young. 


PRICE FIFTY CENTS EACH. 

A LOYAL LITTLE MAID. By Edith Robinson. 

THE LITTLE COLONEL. By Annie Fellows- Johnston. 

BIG BROTHER. By Annie Fellows- Johnston. 

THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. By Miss Muloch. 

THE ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE. By Miss Muloch. 

HIS LITTLE MOTHER. By Miss Muloch. 

WEE DOROTHY’S TRUE VALENTINE. By Laura Upde- 

GRAFF. 

LA BELLE NIVERNAISE. The Story of an Old Boat and her 
Crew. By Alphonse Daudet. 

THE TRINITY FLOWER. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 

STORY OF A SHORT LIFE. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 

RAB AND HIS FRIENDS. By Dr. John Brown. 

THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER. A Legend of Stiria. 

JACKANAPES. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 

THE YOUNG KING. THE STAR CHILD. Two Tales by Oscar 
Wilde. 


Published by JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY 

lg6 SUMMER STREET, BOSTON. 


Books for Boys and Girls. 

The Young Pearl Divers. 

A story of Australian adventure by land and sea. By Lieut. H. 
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The Fairy Folk of Blue Hill. 

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A new volume by Mrs. Wesselhoeft, well known as one of our best writers for 
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Miss Gray’s Girls ; or, Summer Days in the Scottish 

Highlands. 

By Jeannette A. Grant. With about sixty illustrations in half- 
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A pleasantly told story of a summer trip through Scotland, somewhat out of the 
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enough to be able to enjoy through the kindly hospitality of friends. 


Published by JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY, 
196 Summer St., Boston, Mass. 


Books for Boys and Girls. 

A Dog of Flanders. 

A Christmas Story. By Louisa de la Rame (Ouida). i vol., 
square i2mo, cloth, gilt top, $1.25. 

A new edition of a beautiful Christmas story already prized as a classic by all who 
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By Louisa de la Rame (Ouida). i vol., .square i 2 mo, cloth, 
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Another of Ouida’s charming stories, delightful alike to old and young. With fifty 
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An Archer with Columbus. 

}>y Charles E. Brimblecom. With about fifty illustrations 
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Timothy Dole. 

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A new and dainty edition of Ouida’s most exquisite and touching story. 

Published by JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY, 

196 Summer St., Boston, Mass. 



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